ReRun
by Interruption
Summary: Just days after dealing with a horrible case with six dead boys in Arizona, the team takes a case that is eerily similar in Minnesota. But the UnSub's already been caught, hasn't he? Casefic. Reidcentric, JJReid friendship.
1. A Sleepover And A ReRun

chapter one.

* * *

><p><em>In Which There Is A Sleepover And A Bad Rerun<em>

* * *

><p>George Santayana said, "Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it."<p>

Derek Morgan shut his last case file and leaned back in his chair with a sigh. _Finally_. The last case had been incredibly draining: the UnSub had had a physcotic break, believing that children had to be eradicated after he'd lost his own son in a car accident... six boys no older than eight were all dead. They could have saved one if they'd just been called in earlier...

Morgan considered himself good at his job. He saw himself profiling monsters two, five, ten and twenty years from now. But this was one of the worst cases he'd ever come across, maybe not in gore, but - the sight of those kids in their shallow grave had been tough. On all of them. It had taken ten days of getting no where with the profile and another victim for them to make any progress. Those were the worst cases, where they could only wait for someone else to die before giving the profile. And those boys had been completly mangled...

Despite this, he had no doubts about his ability to continue doing his job for quite some time. He wanted to put monsters behind bars for as long as he possibly could, and enjoyed doing it.

Paperwork, not so much.

Sighing, he surveyed the bullpen for anything to take his mind of the six boys. Prentiss was playing solitaire on her computer, too tired to even get up and give Hotch her paperwork... and then there was Reid, hurrying to his desk with what had to be his twentieth cup of coffee. He'd finished his own reports ages ago, of course, and had already helped Morgan out with one or two of his, so if Morgan had to guess, he was just about to finish the last of Emily's. He'd taken his contacts out and was wearing those stupid glasses that managed to make him look like some hipster. You _knew_ you were staying late if Reid took off his glasses. The coffee, on the other hand, was no big surprise.

"Pretty boy, slow down! I'm no doctor, but I'm pretty sure your heart's supposed to be pumping blood, not caffiene."

"Shut up," Reid muttered mildly. There was a pause, filled by the sound of his pen scratching paper, before he continued: "Did you know ten grams of caffiene is considered a fatal dosage? The average American consumes 250 milligrams of caffiene every day, but in Finland and Sweden, the average daily consumption is closer to _400 milligrams_. That's -"

"Reid, have you ever noticed that you only go on your caffiene rants when you're tired?"

Spencer blinked owlishly at Prentiss and rubbed his eyes, somewhat self-conciously. "I..."

"She's right, Reid." Hotch walked up to his desk and shut the file Reid'd been working on. "I want all of you to get out of here and get some rest. None of us has had a decent sleep in at least a week."

"I'm not done with that last report!" Reid whined as Morgan dumped his messenger bag in his arms. "Wait! Guys!"

Morgan laughed at him and clapped on hand on his shoulder, steering him out of the bullpen. "Come on. We're done here."

Reid could only yawn in response.

"Kid, I couldn't agree more."

* * *

><p>By the time Reid got to his apartment, the sky outside was darker than he would have liked and his eyes were itchy with exhaustion. Already he could feel the headache creeping up on him - but he couldn't got to sleep, not yet. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw the pale faces of the boys in Arizona, drying blood staining their visages. Children weren't meant to die. Not Riley Jenkins and not the little boys whose only fault in the UnSub's eyes was their youth.<p>

He dumped his bag by the door, where it landed with a harsh thump, and went straight to his fridge for a beer before collapsing on the couch, flipping on the TV to some mindless informercial about a blender. Television helped slow down the brain's production of melatonin, after all. He could just sit and listen to all th perks of owning your very own Samuri blender for only -

He jumped nearly a mile when the shrill ring of his phone peirced the air, fumbling for it for a moment before he composed himself.

"Reid."

_"Hey, Spence..."_ His foggy mind only needed a moment to pinpoint the voice.

"JJ? What's wrong?"

JJ was silent for a moment before she replied, her voice stronger than before. _"Nothing. Well - not nothing."_ She sighed. _"Nothing's wrong... I just wanted to talk."_

Spencer frowned, glad she couldn't see him. "Um - don't you usually go to Prentiss for that? I mean - I mean, it's just - she's a woman, you're bound to understand eachother better, aren't you? Not that I -"

_"No, no, you're right. I do usually call her."_ Another pause. _"But Henry's sick and Will's asleep and I know she went out with Morgan and Garcia and I was wondering if you would just want to come over, actually. That case just got to me, you know?"_

"Yeah. I do. But... you don't think Will would understand?"

_"No - he's great. Will's great. But he's asleep and Henry's had this fever for a while and he's been dealing with that and I just... I really didn't want to wake him. Please, Spence? I've got beer. And if either Will or Henry wake up, I'm sure they'll be pleased to see you. You never come over with Garcia anymore."_

"I know." And with this, he felt slightly guilty - it was true, he hadn't come over in a while. It had originally been a big deal for him and Garcia to bring over gifts for their godson, but... somehow he had sunk into himself and his books and the cases and not sleeping and he hadn't come by. He hadn't seen any of the team outside of work in a long time, actually. "I'll be over in twenty minutes, okay?"

_"Alright. I'll see you then."_

She hung up without drawing out the goodbye, and he got his coat.

* * *

><p>"Hey," JJ said as she swung the door open for him to enter. "Sorry... I didn't realize what time it was. Time sort of gets warped when I'm thinking about work."<p>

He managed a small smile and took off his shoes; snow had started to fall halfway through the drive from his apartment and by the time he'd gotten to JJ's, there was a good inch on the ground. "I brought something for Henry..." he handed her the plastic bag from the local general store. "It's a coloring book and some new crayons. I figured he already blew through the other ones?"

She nodded and grinned. "You have no idea. I keep trying to tell him that he doesn't need to do twenty in one sitting, but..." she shrugged.

Something about her was off, though. Reid tilted his head and tried to pinpoint it as she led him to the kitchen - "Beer?" "Sure" - the normally poised and professional JJ seemed more worn down, more weary.

"JJ, are you sure you're alright?"

She gave a weak laugh and leaned against the counter. "Yeah. I think I was overreacting a little. Just - the house is too quiet when they're all asleep. And that case..." She bit her lip. "I know we see stuff like that all the time, but... one of those boys was named Henry." Reid nodded. That hadn't failed to bother him, either. "I don't want to go to sleep thinking about how a person could do that to a child. And -"

Reid suddenly found the floor very interesting and kept his eyes on the tiles he found there while he spoke. "I know. You - you probably don't want to understand how a person could understand. I wish I didn't."

"You're right." She took a sip of her beer and Reid did the same. "I don't know why this one got to me so much, though."

Reid shrugged. "Some things just do." They were both quiet for a moment. "Robert Henz is going to spend the rest of his life in jail. Or recieve the death penalty. No one has to worry about him anymore."

"Except his victim's families." Her voice was the bitterest he'd ever heard it. "I don't know, Reid. Maybe I'm just letting this job get to me."

He downed the last of his beer. It was probably time to change to subject. As socially inept as he was, he did't invision a world were following this train of thought would lead to anything good. JJ was good at her job and he couldn't imagine the team without her. And his tendancy to fal back on small talk when he didn't know what to do had never failed him before... (well, not badly.)

"How's Henry? He's not too bad, is he? Fevers can escalate quickly in small children. Do you know how many kids were hospitalized in the year 2000 alone?"

There, there was the smile. It was weak, but it was there. "No. And I'm not sure I need to, but thanks. ...He's only had the fever for the past two days, but it hasn't gotten very high. Will's taking him to the doctor tomorrow."

"The very longest you would want to go without getting him checked would be three or four days... unless his fever was higher than -"

"Spence, I think he'll be okay." But she was smiling.

"Yeah. He will."

* * *

><p>An hour later they had both gone through at least two beers each and had exhausted both all acceptable conversation and themselves. "You can sleep there," JJ said, pointing in the general direction of the couch. He was too tired to argue<p>

Everything was so dark. But after a minute, he thought he could hear voices, vauge and unintelligible. There were soft thumps, too - someone was moving around, but he didn't care. Whatever he was laying on was warm, and soft...

"Spencer?"

Arrrgh. Where was that voice coming from?

Suddenly little Henry from the case in Arizona was staring down at him. "Spencer. Hey, Spencer."

"Whaddizit."

"Wake up. _Spencer."_

He shot upright and sat perfectly still for a moment. Where the hell was he - oh... JJ had asked him over and they'd stayed up drinking and talking until one in the morning and he'd fallen asleep on the couch while she went upstairs and now it was morning and -

"Hi, Will."

"Spencer," the former detective drawled. "I would have let you sleep, but I've got a feeling you'd want to get going. Before Henry wakes up and throws a fit about his sore throat."

(Was it just him, or was Will's tone just a little bit forboding?...)

"Right. Right. Yeah, I probably should... do that." Suddenly, the idea of going over to a married woman's house in the middle of the night to have a few beers while her family slept upstairs seemed _incredibly_ stupid, and not to mention sleazy. Almost as stupid and sleazy as falling asleep on her couch afterwards so that her husband could find her to wake you up and send you home. They hadn't even cleaned up the beer bottles.

Will seemed to be thinking along the same lines. "Looks to me like you and JJ had few last night."

"Um... yeah. Sorry. I'll clean them up. Sorry. He rose and yawned, stumbling over to the kitchen.

"Looks like one of you had a few too many..."

"I'm clumsy, not drunk, don't worry." The bottles clanked loudly as they fell into the recycling bin. "This looks really bad, doesn't it?"

Will cracked a smile. "It might. But I trust JJ with my life and you're not too shady a guy, either."

"Oh." _Thank God_. He wasn't going to see any of the girls on the team alone ever again if he could help it. "Thank you. I'll, um, go now." He snatched his coat from where it lay on a chair and made his way to the door. _Never ever ever again._

Just as he was about to shut the door behind him, Will stopped it from closing.

"Look, Spencer, I do 'preciate you looking after Jayje. And you have my blessing if you find yourself in the position again."

How much had he had last night? "What?"

"I'll see you around, Spencer." And he shut the door, softly.

* * *

><p>"Everyone in the confrence room, now."<p>

Reid, Morgan and Prentiss all rose from their desks to follow Hotch's lead. JJ stood in front of the moniter with a remote control in one hand and their files in the other, which she began to pass out as soon as the team sat down.

"Local PD in St Paul, Minnesota discovered the remains of Amy Gold and Marsha Reddy two days ago." She pressed a button, and the smiling faces of the two young girls appeared on the screen, one with long, brown, curly hair and one with short blonde hair. "On the left is Amy Gold. She was reported missing two weeks ago by her single father, Martin Gold. She was found two nights ago facedown in a ditch, along with Marsha Reddy, who went missing one month ago. Amy's arm was severed and found a few feet away, and she had multiple stab wounds on her face and chest. Marsha's hand was nearly severed, and her face and chest have been so badly beaten and stabbed that they had to use dental records to identify her. Locals don't know what to make of it. They're checking if the girls were sexually assaulted, but so far nothing's turned up. They've been able to keep it out of the media so far, but they're worried about a panic if anything gets leaked."

"If he's killing two at once, panic's going to be hard to prevent," Prentiss muttered, examining the crime scene photos"

"We've got to work fast," Hotch said. "Wheels up in twenty."

* * *

><p><em>AN: Reid and JJ: It's not a romance, folks. I just can't leave the opportunity alone. So if you mind good ol' budding around and maybe some super vague, super light, super obscure Will bashing, leave now.<em>

_Arizona case: I'm not trying to be super dramatic here, but I think all of the cases where children are killed affect the team more than usual, and when I go into more detail about that particular case, I think the team's reaction will make a lot more sense. I know that they deal with completly messed up stuff every day, so I figure their reactions would take a little bit more time to manifest, instead of immediate revulsion. Hopefully I get the balance right._

_Charectization: I really hope I didn't turn JJ into a simpering, oblivious Mary Sue. I like her more and more as I continue watching old and new episodes of the show. I'm experimenting (bwahaha) with her and Reid's relationship, not trying to make her go completly OOC. Call me on my crap, if there's any._

_Rossi: I'm not a huge fan of him. I didn't see where he fit in in this chapter, but he's in the story, all right. He just might not get as much screen time. I will try my hardest to keep it fair and natural, so if one character is in a chapter much more than the other, it's not grounds for wigging out. :)_

_Other: It's my first CM fic. The plot probably sucks already, and the writing could use some major nip/tuck. But I'm writing this for fun, and this is what it is. I hope very much you enjoy it, despite my personal opinions. Please review._


	2. A Punk Ass Kid Gets Murdered

chapter two.

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><p><em>In Which A Punk-Ass Kid Is Murdered<em>

* * *

><p>They were 30,000 feet up in the air when the briefing continued.<p>

"Okay," Prentiss said with a sigh. "Victomology?"

"Both girls were eight years old when they died," Reid said. "They didn't go to the same schools, didn't live in the same part of town. They didn't do anything together as far as documentation goes."

Hotch spoke up here. "Garcia, I want you to start digging. Look at the Gold's and the Reddy's bank statements and see if they had any consistent withdrawels that would match, something to pay for a gymnastics lesson or dance class that they might have taken. I also want you to look at the closest community centers and see if they had any classes geared towards children their age."

The blonde visibly jumped, joining them from across the computer screen, as if she'd just been pricked with a needle. Her next words were punctuated by the sound of a keyboard: "You got it, Boss Man. I will leave no part of these little babies' lives unturned. Ugh, so sad. You're lucky I love you, my sweets. I shall return!"

"We love you too, Garcia," JJ replied dryly. But Garcia's screen had already gone blank.

"You're lucky she didn't hear that," Rossi said, one eybrow raised.

"Focus, please," Hotch said. (But Reid was pretty sure he saw a miniscule smile on his face, just for a second.)

"Okay. Only four days between murders isn't a lot of time to cool down," he murmured, examining the photos of the crime scene.

"And even with all the overkill, we can't know if he's sexually frustrated or taking out his rage on a proxy for some other reason until the autopsy results come back." Morgan scowled and ran a hand over his bald head. "Don't tell me this doesn't make a_ny _of you think of the boys in Arizona."

Prentiss nodded and stared at the pictures of the two dead girls. "How many butchering child-killers can there be out there at one time?"

"We can't think of that right now," Hotch said. "We need to treat this as a separate case. We did our job in Arizona and we need to do it here, too."

Morgan shook his head. "...I don't know. Unless we can find a shared place where the UnSub picked them both out, it seems like he cares more about age than physical looks."

"Maybe a pedophile? Was there evidence of sexual assualt?" Reid asked.

"The medical examiner hadn't finished with the reports when we were called in. They won't be available until a little after we land," JJ said.

Hotch nodded. "Good. Once we're set up at the station, I want Reid to head over and take a look at the bodies. Look past the overkill; the UnSub chose two victims at once for a reason. Then you're going to join Prentiss and Morgan at the crime scene. Rossi, you and I will be taking care of the families, and JJ, I want you dealing with the locals. They're going to be on edge, and it won't be pretty."

* * *

><p>The police station in St Paul was one of the nicer ones the team had seen. It was set up in one large area, but large plexiglass windows seperated it into individual offices, and the whole room was surrounded by smaller offices, set aside from the rest, which had large windows with shades that overlooked the choas. It looked like every police officer in the county was working on the case. It sounded to Reid like every phone in the building was ringing at once and the people running left and right looked like they needed to be in five places at once.<p>

The team stood out in their suits, and a tall, authoratative man strode towards them right away. His hair was begining to gray and he sported a large mustash. "You must be the BAU. I'm Cheif Roberts."

"Supervisory Special Agent Hotchner," Hotch said, Roberts' hand. "These are Agents Rossi, Morgan, Prentiss, Jareau, and Dr. Reid."

Roberts gave them all a curt nod. "Good of you to be here. We're stretched pretty thin and with a case like this, we want to catch our guy as soon as possible. Follow me, I'll show you the space we cleared..."

They followed Roberts through the chaos and into a large office. "We've got one or two more chairs coming in for ya," he said, gesturing towards the table and two chairs that already resided in the room. "And a whiteboard. Ask me if you need anything else."

"We should be fine. Thank you," Hotch said, and Roberts dissappeared back into the bustle outside. Hotch turned to the team. "I don't see any reason for us to stay here. We'll meet up as soon as we've got something."

They dispersed.

* * *

><p>Like most Reid had been in, the morgue where Amy Gold and Marsha Reddy now resided was cold and pale-looking, not unlike the bodies themselves. The medical examiner was a young Vietnamese woman, and she stood where she couldn't see the bodies when he lifted up part of the blanket that covered the girls' whole bodies.<p>

It wasn't often that Reid went to examine the bodies alone. Either they were still at the crime scene and most of the team was with him, or Morgan came with him to the morgue. Sure, Rossi never went near the bodies, preferring to look at pictures and keep his hands clean (and Reid couldn't blame him) and Hotch was nearly always at the crime scene or the station. But at the very least, he'd go with Prentiss, or Elle when she'd been with them. Looking at the butchered bodies of the little girls all alone, save for a woman he'd met two minutes ago (three minutes forty-five seconds, to be exact) just seemed wrong.

Amy's face was marred by the purple-red color of her wounds, which covered her cheeks and eyes. He was glad he was seeing her now instead of at the crime scene, actually. Glad to see her without the blood.

The medical examiner seemed to think the same. "They're the worst I've ever seen. Not to mention the fact that they're _eight,_" she said bitterly. Reid bit his lip and bent down, staring at Amy's shoulder where her arm had been severed. Marsha had been almost as bad... he wasn't looking forward to her, either.

"What ended up being the cause of death?"

"Blow to the head. They died fairly quickly, from what I can tell. A third of these injuries are postmortem."

"Where you able to determine what kind of blade was used?"

"Not specifically, but my guess would be a large one, like... maybe a butcher knife?"

"A machete?"

"I don't know where someone would find one of those in Minnesota, but sure. That would fit."

"It looks like it took to tries for him to completely sever the muscle tissue... the bone has more nicks on it."

"It's hard to cut through tendon."

He didn't reply. Despite trying multiple times to totally get through the arm, the cuts were smooth and sure, without any hesitation. It was same for all the markings across her face and chest. "How deep do the stab wounds go?"

"Two inches was the deepest I saw, but they're consistently deeper on the face than they are on the chest."

The obvious overkill might serve a purpose for the UnSub besides an outlet for rage, then. Pictures from the crime scene had shown Marsha's and Amy's faces both completely covered in blood from their wounds. It had been smeared over their mouths and spilled onto their hair... He was trying to obliterate them completely, to hide their faces. With this level of rage it was unlikely that this was remorse - beating and stabbing their faces was probably part of the fantasy. Whoever these girls represented to the UnSub, he wanted them nonexistent. If these were proxies - and they had to be, because what wrong could two eight-year-old girls commit? - then the UnSub was bound to kill again, and probably two at once just like Amy and Marsha.

He chewed his lip. He'd just ask a few more questions, examine Marsha, and then he'd go to the crime scene to talk to Prentiss and Morgan. They needed to find this guy, and _fast._

* * *

><p>The scene was freezing by the time Reid got there. From what the radio said and average weather patterns this time of year in Minnesota, they were lucky it wasn't snowing - of course, it was probably too cold for that.<p>

From where he parked the car, he could see Prentiss glaring at a cop with a hot cup of coffee. She looked ready to strike, actually...

Well, he couldn't judge. It was coffee, after all...

"Prentiss."

She snapped back into reality and waved him over to a ditch where Morgan was still examining the leaves and dirt. "What do you think, kid?"

"It looks like the UnSub just wants something to take his anger out on. Both girls died from blunt force trauma to the head, probably halfway through the beatings. Despite the brutality of his attacks, pain comes second to this guy. I think his main goal is to render them unrecognizable, probably a result of some deep-seated shame or hatred. For whatever reason, these girls represent something awful to our UnSub... he keeps beating them long after they're dead. I don't think he even cares if they do die, it's just a fortunate side effect for him. There isn't even any evidence of sexual assault."

"But did he kill them both at once? He'd have to spend a lot of time with them if he did, to do this level of damage to both." This came from Prentiss.

"No. Marsha Reddy has actually been dead three weeks, a week before Amy Gold was even kidnapped. He doesn't seem to be escalating, though - Amy Gold's arm was severed, but Marsha Reddy's face was unrecognizable."

"He's disorganized," Morgan said as he headed back to the SUV. Reid followed behind him, feeling a little like a puppy. "He just wants to injure these girls as much as possible."

"There's not much of a method involved," Reid agreed.

Prentiss twisted around from her spot in the front to face Reid. "So... a white male. Probably middle-aged. He doesn't work with children; there's no way to hide this sort of disgust."

"Definitely abused, or suffered a violent crime, probably both."

* * *

><p>He sat on the park bench, relaxed, finally. It was a nice day. Cold, sure, but it was Minnesota in December. And he wasn't bothered by it.<p>

He stretched his legs out so that they lay sprawled out in front of him. Damn, he was good. See, this was the problem with all those other guys - they were too old. They stuck out. But no one that it was creepy when someone as young as him started talking to that piece of shit Amy, for example. And if they did think something was up, what were they gonna do? Call the cops on some _punk kid _talking to another _punk-ass kid_? Nah. He was safe. Even with suits running around, trying to pin it on him. Not even the FBI was smart enough to figure out that a kid could kill someone.

God, they were all so friggin stupid. Just like Amy and Marsha. Just like all the friggin little brats out there, screaming and yelling and whining. Getting rid of em all was what needed to be done, and if it was a blast doing it, well, he wasn't gonna argue. But that crazy guy had been right, after all. All the mini monsters _did _need to die. They deserved it. He deserved to kill them, too. And so what if the whole idea came from some phsyco in Texas or whatever? He probably got rid of those little dumbshits ten times better than that guy. After all, he hadn't been caught yet, had he? And that guy had.

It was true. No one cared about one punk kid talking to another. In fact, no one cared about any punk-ass kid at all. In fact, there was one now - God, parents were so stupid. They just let their stupid, uneducated spawn wander all over the place. They didn't even care if they bothered other people. Idiots.

They girl had short, dark hair and was playing ball with what looked like her younger brother. In fact - _he knew her! _She'd been in the same class as - she was in third grade. Hadn't had her birthday yet. Just eight years old...

Her brother threw the ball wildly and it went into the woods. How friggin easy was this gonna be?

Time to make his move. He got up and started towards the woods, grinning. Dammit, he was _never_ gonna get caught.

* * *

><p>The station was still buzzing with noise and movement when the three got there. JJ was sitting in a room with the door shut, an evidence board in front of her as she talked to someone on the phone.<p>

"...ma'am, I can assure you that if you air that story, you will be completely shut out of the investigation. We will provide no quotes, no statements, _no comments _to you _or _the news station you represent. In fact, I can make sure that your competitors receive a good deal more information than you ever do. Yes, that's right. That's what I thought, too. Yes, thank you, ma'am."

"What did they get a hold of?" Morgan asked as she hung up.

"Nothing too bad, and I don't think it's going to be aired anyway. All they know is two bodies were discovered in the ditch."

"Good," Hotch said as he strode into the room. "The girls don't seem to have anything in common except for their age. One went to Grant Elementary, and one was at Heights."

"They don't even look anything alike," JJ added somberly.

"Something about the age is important. But we don't even know how he's taking them yet."

"Both the Golds and the Reddys had obviously taught there children not to go off with strangers," Rossi said. "So the UnSub's either a man in uniform, or someone they know."

"Or he has a child with him that makes him feel safe," Reid piped up. "We've seen that before."

Prentiss opened her mouth to say something, but before she could, Chief Roberts waked in. "Agent? Another victim's just been found."

* * *

><p>Lily Miller's eyes were still open and clear by the time they found her, but that was about the only thing left intact. The whole left side of her was was badly bruised, and her cheek had bled, the blood running onto the frozen ground. As Reid and Morgan walked up to the body, a few of the policemen and paramedics that had been swarming around dispersed. Neither of them needed to look for long to see that something was obviously different about this girl.<p>

"Hotch, this girl was beaten with something blunt. A baseball bat, maybe, but definitely not a knife."

"The only place she's bleeding is on her cheek," Reid added. "It looks like the UnSub beat her, and _then _stabbed her. So is that his signature?"

Hotch crouched down to look at her cheek. "Signature or not, it's definitely the same UnSub."

"I don't like this, Hotch." Morgan stood and put his hands in his pockets. This is _exactly _like the boys in Arizona. Henz changed the number of victims he killed at one time, too. And they didn't look anything alike. Look, I'm not trying to be paranoid here, but these cases fit together in all the wrong places."

"I know. But until we have something solid - and I don't know what that would be - this is a separate case, with a separate UnSub. Try to forget about the boys in Arizona, Morgan."

Derek was silent as Hotch walked away. "Dammit, Reid, this isn't right."

"I know, but at least it's a lead."

"What?"

Reid looked up in surprise - he and Morgan weren't talking about the same thing, were they? He needed to stop zoning out. "I was talking about this. It was in her pocket..." He handed Morgan the letter, from one blue-gloved hand to another.

"Damn it. Reid, this is the _exact _same as in Arizona."

* * *

><p><em>AN: That was a lot of casefic and not a lot of anything else ^^ Next chapter we'll have a little bit more character building, and y'all can see what the letter read, and learn a little bit more about the Arizona case, maybe._

_...thoughts? This is my first CM fanfic. Eeep._


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